Page 80 of Playing it Safe

"You should shower." She releases me and smooths her jersey. “Your boss bought me nachos. And Cameron has a new tattoo. Show her."

Cameron hasn't moved. He raises his left sleeve, just enough for me to see a bandage over angry red skin sporting a bridge, spanning dark water.

"Pittsburgh."

He looks at his arm, then back at me. His eyes are dark and steady, and I can see the pulse in his throat. “I wasn’t done with my story yet,” he says. “Have to commemorate the place that welcomed me home.”

We stare at each other as I try to decide what he means by that. Home.

Deen looks from me to Cameron and back. She adjusts her purse strap. "This is where you say sorry," she says. "Both of you. I already explained how it works."

Chapter 32

Briar

We don’t talk in the car as Cameron drives Deen home and me to … well, I hope he’s taking me home, but I’m nervous to ask. I keep peeking at my sister, whose face gems periodically catch the streetlight and twinkle in sync with the happiness glowing from her.

She is radiant and content, and she got there through a combination of events that were entirely outside my control. There was confusion about whether she could attend my game, and people handled it. My sister was overwhelmed, and she handled it. There are people in this city who are unrelated to her who care about her, and they showed that today.

Cameron’s arm rests on the console between us, and I can make out the shape of his tattoo in the low light. I want to touch it, pull the car over, press my face against the warm, angry skin he altered today, and trace every line as I tell him how sorry I am. How much I love him. How hard I plan to work on my issues.

And then he slides his big palm onto my thigh and gives me a squeeze. I feel immediately grounded, safe. And hopeful. It makes me want to cry in relief.

He pulls up outside Deen’s house, where Dominique is waiting at the door as DD climbs out of the back seat. “Good night, Cam-cam.” She waves.

He rolls down his window and leans out. “Bye, Deen-deen.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.” My sister grins, patting her purse. “Good game, BB. I love you!”

I lean past my giant man-friend to holler at her, my voice thick with overwhelm. “Love you, too, sis. Talk soon.”

She walks to the door, and Dominique waves as they head inside. Cameron's hand returns to my thigh as he pulls out.

"Briar—"

"Not yet." My voice comes out thinner than I intended. “Can we wait until we’re at home?”

He nods. His thumb moves once on my knee and then stops.

* * *

Puck is on the windowsill when we walk in. He looks at Cameron and makes a sound I can only describe as accusatory. Then he jumps down and winds around Cameron's ankles, purring so hard that his whole body vibrates.

“Sure, Cameron, the cat hates you,” I joke, secretly grateful Puck cut the tension a bit.

Cameron crouches and picks him up. Puck headbutts Cameron's chin and digs his claws into Cameron's shoulder, and I watch this man hold his terrible cat like he’s a delicate flower.

"I'm sorry," I say.

Cameron’s eyes meet mine over Puck's head.

"I'm sorry I called you a martyr. I'm sorry I said your family treats you like a resource. I'm sorry I made you feel like your ex made you feel. None of that is —" I press my fingers to my eyes. "Some of it was true. But the way I said it was cruel, and I was scared."

Cameron sets Puck on the floor. The cat meows in protest, then stalks toward his food bowl. Cameron straightens. He looks exhausted and uncertain. "I should have said I love you back," he says. "You told me something incredible, and I stood there like a fucking statue."

"You were in shock."

"I was scared. Same as you." He steps closer. The hallway is narrow, and he's enormous, and I can smell him. Skin and warmth and the faint antiseptic edge of whatever cream is on his fresh tattoo. "I built a whole house for you, and I couldn't say three words."